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PROFESSOR SANBORN'S EULOGY 



ON 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 



EULOGY 



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DANIEL WEBSTER, 



DELIVERED BEFORE THE 

STUDENTS OF PHILLIPS ACADEMY, 

ANDOVER, MASSACHUSETTS, 

DECEMBER 29, 1852, 
BY EDWIN D. SANBOKN, 

PROFESSOR OF LATIN, &C. IN DARTMOUTH COLLEGE. 



" URIT EJTCM FULGOBE SDO, QUI PRSaRAVAT ARTE 
INFRA SE FOSITAS ; EXTINCTUS, AMABIT0R IDEM." 




DARTMOUTH PRESS, HANOVER. 

1853. 



E'340 



Phillips Academy, Jan. 26, 1853. 

Dear Sir, 

In appreciation of the interesting and instructive Eulogy 

on the late Daniel Webster, which you recently delivered to the 

Students of this Academy, the undersigned were appointed a Committee 

to request in their behalf a copy for publication. 

Yours very respectfully, 

A. PALMER, 

J. F. AIKEN, 

J. QUINCY BITTINGER, 

T. B. RAYNOLDS, 

J. B. BRACKETT 

Prof. E. D. Sanborn. 



EULOGY. 



Nature's noblemen ought to be tried by their peers. 
Those illustrious patriots, whose words and deeds consti- 
tute the materials of history, should be portrayed by men 
who can fully comprehend them. The actions and opin- 
ions of the honored dead should be scanned and weighed 
by such of their disciples as are competent to appreciate 
and imitate them. To hold up their virtues to the admi- 
ration of posterity is the office of kindred spirits possess- 
ing like tastes and endowments. 

" What light is, 't is only light can show." 

But Webster has gone and left no peer. The man who 
can justly estimate his mind and heart, his character and 
influence, does not live. Centuries may elapse before the 
advent of his equal ; for Nature is not prodigal of such 
gifts. Those epochs, in human history, which have been 
distinguished by the life and services of truly great men 
are separated by centuries and not by generations. Poets, 
philosophers and statesmen of commanding genius, only 
appear, when the common mind is prepared, by previous 
developement, to take an onward step in social improve- 
ment. Then God condescends to raise up and educate 
a leader. 

" Such men are rais'd to station and command, 
When Providence means mercy to the land. 
He speaks and they appear ; to him they owe 
Skill to direct and strength to strike the blow * 
To manage with address, to seize with pow'r 
The crisis of a dark decisive hour. 

Such men are commissioned to perform their service 
at the proper time and are removed at the proper time ; 



for, " the Judge of all the earth doeth right." It hath 
pleased Almighty God to take from this nation its coun- 
sellor ; from the civilized world, its pacificator. Dan- 
iel Webster is no more ! In his own appropriate words, 
uttered on a similar occasion, we may now say : " It is 
fit that, by public assembly and solemn observance, by an- 
them and by eulogy, we commemorate the services of na ■ 
tional benefactors, extol their virtues, and render thanks 
to God for eminent blessings, early given and long con- 
tinued, through their agency, to our favored country.'' 
The true artist admires the most perfect specimens of art 
though he never hopes to equal them. The genuine pa- 
triot loves the noblest exhibitions of patriotism and de- 
lights to commemorate those virtues which ennoble the 
land of his birth. When he sees them embodied in hu- 
man character and exhibited in human conduct, he ren- 
ders to their living exemplars the sincere homage of a 
grateful heart, though they walk in paths far above his 
own highest aspirations. When the light which cheered 
and guided him is quenched in death and a night of sor- 
row broods over the land, he bewails the nation's loss and 
commends his country to God. Such is our duty. The 
lights of the age are leaving us. From eternity, these 
great souls that have gone before, are beckoning their 
companions home. The stars of our political heavens 
are going down. Like the Grecian navigator, of old, 
cased in oak and triple brass, whom winds and currents 
bore over the Mge&n, till the guiding constellations, one 
by one, disappeared from his view, we feel that night 
and storm have drifted us far over the ocean of time, till 
the last luminary to which we looked for guidance has 
sunk from our sight. It is never right to despair of the 
republic ; still we may borrow the touching language of 
poetry when we would express the sense of our irrepara- 
ble loss : 



5 

" We liave fallen upon evil days, 
Star after star decays ; 
The brightest names that shed 
Light o'er the land, have fled. 

The history of Daniel Webster is known. It is iden- 
tified with that of his country. Its laws, its literature, 
its arts, have all felt the influence of his great mind for 
half a century. There is no public interest, in the land, 
that has not been controlled by his wisdom and fostered 
by his care. It is not my purpose, therefore, to speak, 
particularly, of his public life and services ; but, of these 
less obvious and comparatively unnoticed agencies which 
moulded his mind and heart, and gave direction and force 
to his native endowments. Every truly great man is the 
joint product of genius and culture. Mind and affections 
expanding, from within, and precept and example ope- 
rating, from without, form the character. The relative 
influence of the natural faculties and education, in pro- 
ducing the best specimens of our race, was as well under- 
stood and defined by Horace, as it now is, after two 
thousand years of discussion and experience. 

" Doetrina sed vim promovet insitam, 
Rectique cnltus pectora rohorant : 
Uteumque defecere mores 
Indecorant bene nata culpse." 

Mr. Webster's condition in early life, explains many of 
his prominent characteristics. His fondness for rural life 
and manly exercises grew directly out of the occupations 
of Ms childhood. His reverence for the Bible, his hatred 
of violence and cruelty, and his earnest devotion to the 
institutions of his country, are the result of parental in- 
struction. His love of liberal learning, his cultivated 
taste, his elevated aims in life, his intense scorn of all 
affectation, pretence and intrigue are the spontaneous de- 
velopements of the intellect and heart with which the 
Creator endued him. The entire biography of Mr. Web- 



6 

ster gives new confirmation to a very common maxim of 
teachers : 

That the habits formed in early life, determine the des- 
tiny of the man. Happy is lie, whose habits are his 
friends. I shall now attempt to follow out some of those 
prominent traits of his character, which run, like golden 
threads, through the whole tissue of his history, begin- 
ning with the first activities of buoyant childhood, and 
terminating in the sublime close of the most eventful life 
of the age. 

Mr. Webster was passionately fond of the country. He 
loved its green fields and sombre forests, its rugged 
mountains and quiet vales ; its summer toils and winter 
sports. With Cowper he could cordially say : 

'• Not rural sights alone, but rural sounds 
Exhilarate the spirit and restore 
The tone of languid nature." — ■ 

The lowing of herds and the bleating of flocks cheered 
him like strains of music. Such scenes brought back the 
recollections of his early days. His love of rural life was, 
perhaps, his ruling passion. It never forsook him. The 
purchase of land and the regulation of his estates were 
among the last business transactions of his life. Farm- 
ing, with him was a reality. He gave personal atten- 
tion to the most minute arrangements upon his farms, as 
his letters to his tenants abunclatly show. John Taylor 
has hundreds of Mr. Webster's letters containing specific 
direction respecting the time and place of ploughing, 
sowing and planting. The amount and kind of seed and 
manure, for each piece, are mentioned. The various an- 
imals, upon the farm, are spoken of by their appropriate 
names, or peculiar marks ; and particular directions are 
given for the feeding of them or for their sale and the 
purchase of others. He was seldom deceived, in the qual- 
ities of the animal that he had examined. In the man- 



agement of his farms he was as careful and judicious as 
in the administration of the State. The highest pleas- 
sure he ever knew was in retirement ; in inspecting his 
crops, examining his stock, preparing tools and seed for 
future use and planning extensive improvements in every 
department of rural industry. Like Antieus, he seemed 
to acquire new strength, by touching the earth. His 
spirits rose ; the feelings of childhood revived and with 
them, the artlessness, the simplicity and playfulness of 
childhood. The stately reserve of the Senator was laid 
aside ; the cares of the diplomatist were forgotten while 
he re-enacted the scenes of his youth. He donned the 
farmer's dress. His discourse was of bullocks, of horses, 
of flocks and of swine. The farmer's vocabulary was as 
familiar to him as the technicalities of the law. All the 
common processes of agriculture were as vivid in his re- 
collection as when he followed the plough and " drove 
the team a-field." 

Daniel Webster performed the ordinary services of a 
boy, on his father's farm, till the age of fourteen. Im- 
agine to yourself a slender, black-eyed, serious lad, with 
raven locks, leading the traveller's horse to water when 
he alighted at his father's inn, driving the cows to pas- 
ture, at early dawn, and returning them at evening, 
riding the horse to harrow between the rows of corn, in 
weeding time, and following the niowers, with a wooden 
spreader, in haying time, and you have the portrait. 
His early opportunities for improvement were far less 
than those of farmers' sons at the present day. Schools 
were few and short. In Salisbury, they were migrato- 
ry, kept in each of three districts, which comprised the 
town, in turn. Sometimes the school was more than 
three miles from his father's house. Two or three months 
in winter, with constant occupation in summer, furnish- 
ed but limited means of improvement to the lover of 



learning. Books and periodicals were almost unknown. 
The few books, which his father owned, were thoroughly 
conned. The Bible, Watts' s Psalms and Hymns, Shaks- 
peare and Pope constituted his literary treasures. He 
could recite the whole of Pope's " Essay on Man," when 
he was twelve years of age. Being once asked, why he 
committed this philosophic poem to memory, at that time 
of life, he replied, "Because I had little else to commit." 
He said that he could not remember the time when he 
could not read. He learned his letters and infant pray- 
ers from the lips of his mother. He was an accom- 
plished reader very early in life. He once told me that 
he recollected, when a very small boy, that the teamsters 
from the North, who called at his father's tavern for re- 
freshment, used to insist on his reading them a psalm. 
They leaned upon their long whip-stocks and listened, 
with delighted attention, to the elocution of the young 
orator. There was a charm, in his voice, at this early 
age. The hymns which he then committed, he recited 
with pleasure to the close of life. He was often heard 
singing or reciting stanzas from "Watts as he walked about 
his house or grounds. At Franklin, in September, 1851, 
while he was laboring under severe indisposition, I often 
heard the clear, silvery tones of his voice ringing through 
the old house as he sung, 

" Our lives through various scenes are drawn, 

And vex'd with trifling cares ; 
While thine eternal thoughts move on 

Thine undisturbed affairs." 

The last line was often heard alone. The contrast of 
human government with the divine, undoubtedly, sug- 
gested it. At midnight, while the rapt singer was tortur- 
ed with pain, the same strain was heard, from his sickroom. 
I have known him to repeat a psalm of Watts and pro- 
nounce it unsurpassed in beauty and sublimity. ' ' Where- 
ever you find Watts" said he, "you find true devotion." 



He showed the same love for the sweet minstrel during 
his last illness. The impressions of youth grew stronger 
with age. Near the close of his life, he expressed a wish 
to leave his testimony in favor of early piety ; declaring 
that the hymns of Watts, from his cradle hymns to his 
version of the Psalms, were always uppermost in his 
mind ; oftener occurring to his memory than the writings 
of his favorite poets, Dryden, Pope, Cowper, Milton and 
Shakspeare. He wished his friends to understand, that 
the early religious instruction and example of his parents 
had moulded and influenced his whole subsequent life. 

Daniel Webster ivas a serious, earnest and truthful boy. 
The reverence for God's word and ordinances which his 
parents inculcated, never forsook him. On this point, 
he being dead yet speaketh. His earliest written and 
published productions evince an elevation of thought and 
a solemnity of style above his years. " Erat in verbis 
gra vitas, et facile dicebat, et auctoritatem naturalem 
quandani habebat oratio." 

He entered College, with very imperfect preparation, 
at fifteen. He had devoted only about ten months to the 
preparatory studies ; and, less than three months of that 
time, to Greek. In College, he early became a contrib- 
utor for the press. His first printed production is on 
" Hope." It is written both in prose and verse. This 
passage occurs in it : 

" Through the whole journey of man's life, however deplora- 
ble his condition, Hope still irradiates his path and saves him 
from sinking in wretchedness and despair. Thanks to Heaven 
that human nature is endowed with such an animating principle ! 
When man is reduced to the lowest spoke of fortune's wheel ; when 
the hard hand of pinching poverty binds him to the dust ; when 
sickness and disease prey upon his body ; yea, when meagre death 
approaches him, what then supports and buoys him safe over the 
abyss of misery ? 'Tis Hope." 

The close is as follows : 

" But first of all, go ask the dying soul, 
Whose all. -who?e only portion lies beyond 



10 

The narrow confines of this earthly realm, 
How thus he can support affliction's weight 
And grapple with the mighty foe of man ; 

He says, 'tis faith ; 'tis hope ; 

By these he penetrates death's dreary vale, 
And lo ! a blest Eternity appears." 

His next piece is on "Charity." A brief extract 
will show its character : 

" Let hate and discord vanish at thy sight, 
And every fibre of the human breast 
Be tun'd to genuine sympathy and love. 
When thou, in smiles, deseendest from the skies, 
Celestial radiance shines around thy path, 
And happiness, attendant or. thy steps. 
Proclaims, in cheerful accents, thine iv proach." 

The next article is on " Fear," written partly in prose 
and partly in blank verse. I find others upon the sea- 
sons of the year, upon war and upon political topics, both 
in prose and verse. The style is somewhat ambitious as 
is natural, at that early age, but the thoughts are always 
elevated and serious. Almost every composition is im- 
bued with religious sentiments. 

Mr. Webster possessed one of those well-balanced 
minds which can find pleasure in the acquisition of all 
truth. He did not adopt one study and neglect another, 
in his College course ; but pursued them all with equal 
ardor and manifest delight. If he had continued to cul- 
tivate poetry he would, undoubtedly, have excelled in 
that species of composition. 

During the first term of his Senior year, he was called 
to mourn the death of a classmate, to whom he was fond- 
ly attached. He was invited to pronounce his eulogy. 
A copy was requested for publication. " This oration,''* 
says a classmate, " was full of good sentiments. It would 
have done honor to one of long-improved privileges." 
It shows very clearly what his views of religion then were. 
Speaking of his deceased classmate, he said : 



11 

" To surviving friends gladdening is the reflection, that he di- 
ed, as lie had lived, a firm believer in the sublime doctrines of 
Christianity. Whoever knew him, in 

life, and saw him in death, will cordially address this honorable 
testimony to his memory : 

' Fie taught us how to liva ; and oh ! too high 
The price of knowledge, taught us hov,- to die.' 

Religion dissevers the chain that binds man to the dust and 
bids him be immortal. It enables the soul to recline on the arm 
of the Almighty, and the tempest beats harmless around her. In 
the smooth seasons and the calms of life, the worth of religion is 
not estimated. Like every thing else which has in it the genu- 
ine marks of greatness, it is not captivated with the allurements 
of worldly grandeur, nor the soft and silken scenes of luxury. 
Amidst the gaiety and frivolity of a Parisian court, the philoso- 
pher of Ferney could curse religion without a blush ; Hume, 
proud of that reputation which his talents had acquired him, 
could play it off in a metaphysical jargon ; and Paine disposes 
of it with a sneer and a lie. But let religion be estimated by 
him who is just walking to the stake of the martyr ; by him who 
is soon to smTer the tortures of the inquisition ; by him who is 
proscribed and banished from his family, from his friends and 
from his country : — these will tell you that religion is invalua- 
ble : that it gives them comfort here ; that it is the earnest of 
life eternal; the warrant that gives possession of endless felicity." 

These are the opinions of his youth. How like the 
matured convictions of age ; like that solemn declara- 
tion of his sentiments which he subscribed, with his own 
hand, on his dying bed : 

" My heart has always assured and re-assured me that the 
gospel of Jesus Christ must be a divine reality. The Sermon en 
the Mount cannot be a merely human production. This belief 
enters into the depths of my conscience. The whole history of 
man proves it." 

As a teacher, while he was preceptor of Fryeburg 
Academy, in 1802, then a youth of twenty years, he ex- 
hibited the same serious deportment and respect for re- 
ligion. An old pupil of his, Dr. T. P. Hill of Planover, 
N. H. says : " It was his invariable practice to open 
and close the school with extempore prayer ; and, I shall 
never forget the solemnity with which the duty was al- 
ways performed." Mr. AVebster was never known to 



12 

trifle, with the affairs of time, much less with the reali- 
ties of eternity. In his public speeches, he always al- 
luded to the Scriptures, with profound reverence, and 
never uttered the name of the Supreme Being but with 
manifest awe. He was a careful reader of the Bible and 
delighted to repeat passages of elevated poetry and sub- 
lime devotion from its pages, in contrast with the inferi- 
or productions of uninspired poets and philosophers. His 
early poetic productions are all redolent of the truths of 
God's word. From a religious poem published April 28, 
1800, I quote the introduction and close : 

" When that grand period in the eternal mind, 

Long predetermined, had arrived, behold 

The universe, this most stupendous mass 

Of things, to instant being rose. This globe 

For light and heat dependent on the sun, 

By power supreme, was then ordained to roll 

And on its surface bear immortal man, 

Complete in bliss, the image of his God. 

His soul to gentle harmonies attuned, 

Th' un<rovern'd rage of boisterous passions knew not ; 

Malice, revenge and hate were then unknown ; 

Love held its empire in the human heart, 

The voice of love alone escaped the lip 

And gladd'ning nature echoed back the strain. 

Oh happy state ! too happy to remain ; 

Temptation comes and man, a victim, falls ! 

Farewell to peace, farewell to human bliss ! 

Farewell ye kindred virtues, all farewell ! 

Ye tlee the world and seek sublimer realms. 

Passions impetuous now possess the heart 

And hurry every gentler feeling thence. 
* * ♦ ***** 

Is it now asked why man for slaughter pants, 

Raves with revenge, and with detraction burns ? 

Go ask of Aetna why her thunders roar, 

Why her volcanoes smoke, and why she pours, 

In torrents, down her side, the igneous mass 

That hurries men and cities to the grave. 

These but the effects of bursting fires within ; 

Convulsions that are hidden from our sight 

And bellow under ground. Just so in man ; 

The love of conquest and the lust of power 

Are but the effects of passion unsubdued. 



IS 

T" avert th' effects then, deeply strike the cause, 
O'ercome the rage of passion and obtain 
The empire over self. This once achieved, 
Impress fair virtue's precept on the heart, 
Teach man t' adore his God and love his brother ; 
War then no more shall raise the rude alarm, 
Widows and orphans then shall sigh no more, 
Peace shall return and man again be bless'd." 

Another prominent element of his character was re- 
spect for law. In youth, ho practised obedience to his 
parents and teachers with Spartan equanimity ; and, in 
manhood, he inculcated the same principle with Roman 
firmness. You know how he loved and honored his pa- 
rents ; how he delighted to recall their pious instructions; 
how he made an annual pilgrimage to the place, where 
their honored dust reposes, to weep over their graves ; 
how he delighted to take his children to the site of the 
old log cabin which his father built, in the forest, beyond 
every vestige of civilized man ; how he delighted to re • 
count to them the toils, the sufferings and victories of 
that heroic father through the blood and fire of two long 
protracted wars. You know, too, how fully he appreci- 
ated the sacrifice made by his parents, in their deep pov- 
erty, to give him an education which seemed beyond their 
means and thus to raise him above their own condition. 
You know, too, how timidly, after a sleepless night, spent 
in conference with Ezekiel, he ventured to ask that his 
beloved brother might leave the farm for the halls of 
learning. In the family council which was called in con- 
sequence, when the father, bowed with toil and suffering 
and oppressed with pecuniary burdens, was speechless 
with grief at the thought of losing the supports of his age, 
then that strong-minded, generous mother having a pre- 
sentiment of the future eminence of her sons decided the 
question. Her verdict was : " I have lived long in the 
world and have been happy in my children, and I wish 
them to be happy. If Daniel and Ezekiel will promise 



14 

to take care of their father and mother, in their old age, 
I will consent to the sale of all our property, at once, that 
they may enjoy the benefit of what remains after our debts 
are paid." The memory of that fond mother was very 
dear to her illustrious sons. She was a woman of com- 
manding presence and great personal beauty. The only 
representation of her face extant is a small profile like- 
ness, at Marshfield, handsomely framed, with this title, 
"My excellent Mother," written by Mr. Webster and 
subscribed with his own name.* 

When Daniel and Ezekiel had completed their collegi- 
ate education, they consecrated their first earnings to the 
support and comfort of their parents. When Daniel 
Webster attained his majority, he hired money, in his 
own name, went to Salisbury and notified all the credit- 
ors of Judge Webster to present to him their claims for 
settlement. This was at the time when his father had 
secured for him the Clerkship of the Court of Common 
Pleas, in Hillsborough County, with a salary of $1,500 
per annum. He was very anxious that his son should 
accept it as it would place the family above want. But 
Daniel had resolved to influence the decisions of Courts 
rather than record them. I have heard him say that his 
father's black eyes flashed with momentary displeasure, 
when he respectfully declined this tempting offer, and he 
added with some spirit, " well Daniel, your mother has 
often said that you would make something or nothing, 

* Every thing which reminded him of his mother was very precious. In 
one of his letters to John Taylor during the last year, he bids him be care- 
ful to cultivate his mother's garden, if it required the expense of an extra 
hand. The flowers that grew there were his favorites. On the evening of 
his triumphant reception in Boston, in July last, after entering the Hotel, 
exhausted by the fatigues of the day, a lady who knew his favorite flower, 
selected from the thousands of elegant boquets, that were showered upon 
him, as he passed through the streets, a little bunch of carnation pinks and 
presented them to him. He kissed her hand with inimitable grace and 
said : " How fragrant, how beautiful ! thev remind me of my mother's gar- 
den." 



15 

and I think you have decided the question." He had 
d ecided it ; and, that was the turning point in his lii'e. His 
brother Ezekiel, as I find from their correspondence, de- 
bated afterwards a similar question and decided in the 
same way, though he was, at the very time, giving his 
note for money to aid his brother in the payment of his 
father's liabilities ; and, in addition to the fatigues of a 
school by day, teaching sailors in the evening, to eke out 
the scanty means of his own support. It seems that Dan- 
iel had suggested to his brother, while teaching, a lucra- 
tive position as a clerk which was within his reach. In 
a letter dated Aug. 14, 1805, Ezekiel replies as follows: 
"I should wish it, if convinced that I might do better 
than in a profession. In that office, you know a man 
stands on a mine that maybe sprung almost any moment. 
In a profession, he is on a little surer ground. When the 
stonn beats, he can buffet it. Men must be sick, and 
they will be dishonest ; and the few upright will want 
lawyers to protect them from rogues. The fees of the 
clerk may be frittered down till they bear no proportion 
to the labor." He concludes by refering the matter to his 
brother's direction. We hear no more of the proposal. 
The offer was, of course, declined. This rejection of an 
office of such emolument, under such circumstances, shows 
the self-reliance of these young men. They were con- 
scious of ability to act in the affairs of men and to direct 
them. They chose, therefore, to depend on their own 
resources for success, and they were not disappointed. — 
Ezekiel Webster could scarcely be said to be inferior to 
Daniel in talents or moral virtues. He was a kindred 
spirit in mind and heart. N. P. Rogers, Esq., writing 
to the Editor of the New York Tribune in 1846, uses the 
following language : 

" Daniel Webster had a brother Ezekiel ; Zeke the people used 
to call him, the best looking man and the most of a man that has 



16 

trodden the soil since George Washington. He was a more proper 
looking man than Daniel himself, and there was as little about 
him you could trifle with as there is about the White Hills. And 
yet lie was as modest and delicate as a child. Judge Livermore 
said of him, he was a model of a lawyer and of a man. He was 
a New Hampshire Lawyer. He is dead. He fell dead in the 
Court House in the very midst of a mighty argument. All eyes 
were riveted upon him as he was in the full tide of terrible remark 
on the testimony of an opposing witness. He paused for breath, 
rolled up his majestic eye? and fell, like an oak, entirely dead. 
Judge Livermore instantly adjourned the Court, without day." 

This brother, Daniel loved with intense affection. They 

labored together in boyhood on the farm, they aided each 

other in securing an education. They were co-workers 

in earning money, with a common purse, to take a heavy 

pecuniary load from the shoulders of a revered father. 

Of the personal appearance of the father and brother 

Daniel thus speaks : 

" My father ! Ebenezer Webster born at Kingston in the low- 
er part of the State in 1739 — the handsomest man I ever saw 
except my brother Ezekiel, who appeared to me, and so does he 
now, the very finest human form that ever I laid eyes on. I saw 
him in his coffin — a w y hite forehead — a tinged cheek — a complex- 
ion as clear as heavenly light ! But wdiere am I straying ? The 
grave has closed upon him as it has upon nil my brothers and sis- 
ters. We shall soon be all together. But this is melancholy 
and I leave it. Dear, dear kindred blood, how I love you all." 

This affectionate regard for his relatives was manifest- 
ed in a modified form for all his teachers. You have all 
seen his filial epistle to old Master Tappan, which was 
also accompanied with a liberal donation. His tribute 
to Dr. Abbott, at the meeting of the Alumni of Exeter 
Academy, was said to be surpassingly touching and elo- 
quent. The venerable Dr. Wood, to whom he recited 
for six months, while he was preparing for College, so 
long as he lived, always received from him an annual 
visit of respect; and, when he heard of his death, he ex- 
claimed : " He was a good man and true. He has act- 
ed well his part, in life ; and, the children will rise up 
and call him blessed." 



17 

Of the professors, in College, to whom he recited, he 
ever spoke, with warm interest ; and, once, admitted 
that, in his youth, he was so captivated with the bril- 
liant and stately periods of President Wheelock, that his 
own style was, for a season, greatly marred by imitating 
him. Y. Irile in College, no man was more observant of 
order and punctuality. His classmate, Mr. Smith, says: 

" He was a strict observer of order. His mind was too digni- 
fied to do otherwise. He never engaged in College disturbances. 
I should as soon have suspected John Wheelock, the President, 
of improper conduct as Daniel Webster. He looked with con- 
tempt upon all lawless conduct. I never knew him to waste the 
study hours. He was constant, at the recitations, and always well 
prepared. He was peculiarly industrious. In addition to the Col- 
lege studies, he read more than any one in his class. He read 
with great rapidity and remembered all. He would accomplish 
more business, in a given time, than any one of his classmates. 
As a general scholar, Webster was good. He was not deficient 
in a single study. As a composer and speaker there was not his 
equal in the class. The truth is, that, by his thorough investi- 
gation of every subject, and every study, while in College, togeth- 
er with his giant mind, he rose to the very pinnacle of fame ; and 
since he left College all he had to do, was to sustain himself where 
he was, and fame would roll in upon him ; and all his classmates 
have been compelled to look up high to see him which I have ever 
been proud to do." 

You have heard of Diomed and Ulysses ; of Pylades 

and Orestes ; of Achates and JEneas, in ancient times. 

Here, from our own Academic shades, has come forth an 

armor-bearer worthy of the intellectual hero whom he 

chooses to follow. Kev. Brown Emerson, D. D., of 

Salem, Mass., who was in College with Mr. Webster, 

writes to me as follows : 

"As a classical and belles-lettres scholar, and as a speaker 
and debater, he stood far above all the other members of the Col- 
lege. Though young, he gave such unequivocal evidence of a 
powerful genius, that some, I remember, predicted his future 
eminence. The powers of his mind were remarkably developed 
by the compass and force of his arguments in extemporaneous de- 
bate. The clearness of his reasoning, though so young, connect- 
ed with his aspect and manner, made an almost irresistible im- 
pression. His large, black, piercing eyes peering out under 

3 



18 

dark, overhanging brows ; — his broad intellectual forehead ; — 
the solemn tones of his voice ; — the dignity of his mein ; — with 
an earnestness, by Avhich he seemed to throw his whole great soul 
into his subject, evincing the sincerity of his belief that the cause 
he pleaded was that of truth and justice ; all these together cre- 
ated a power of eloquence which, in the maturity of after life, 
neither judge nor jury could often withstand, and gave him a suc- 
cess as an advocate, at the bar, which, in this country, is without 
a parallel." 

Dr. George Farrar of Deny, N. H., who preceded 

Mr. Webster, one year, in College, says : 

" Mr. Webster very early showed that he possessed talents of 
the first order. He was one of the first in his class as a classical 
scholar. He possessed a very retentive memory ; — by reading 
twenty or even more pages of poetry twice over, I have heard 
him repeat their contents almost verbatim. He was much in the 
habit of extemporaneous speaking. He read much in general 
history and philosophy. He was a strict observer of the Sabbath 
and read much in the Bible and religious books. He had the 
rare talents united of a good judgment and a retentive memory." 

Hon. Henry Hubbard, of Charlestown, N. H., who 

was two years in College with Mr. Webster, confirms all 

these statements from his own knowledge. Speaking of 

his success, as a writer and speaker, he says : 

" He was so decidedly beyond any one else that no other stu- 
dent, in his class, was ever spoken of as second to him. The stu- 
dents and those who knew him best and judged of his merit im- 
partially, felt that no one, connected with the College, deserved 
to be compared with him, at the time he received his degree. His 
habits and moral character were entirely stainless. I never heard 
them questioned during our College acquaintance." 

Another gentleman, Rev. Dr. Merrill, of Middlebury, 

Vt., who was his classmate, writes me : 

" He was a student of good habits. I presume, confidently, 
that he was never concerned in any mischief. I suppose that he 
acted upon the principle of mastering his lessons and attending 
on all the exercises of the College, both literary and religious." 

Dr. Shurtleff, who was then a tutor in the College, says: 

" Mr. Webster, while in College, was remarkable for his steady 
habits, his intense application to study and his punctual attend- 
ance upon all the prescribed exercises. He was always in his 
place and with a decorum suited to it. He had no collision with 
any one, nor appeared to enter into the concerns of others ; but, 
emphatically minded his own business." 



19 

This is what he has always done, and this is the secret 
of his success. I have been thus minute in describing 
his College life, because, there prevails among students, 
an erroneous opinion respecting his habits and rank as a 
scholar. Mr. Webster's habits of reading have been al- 
luded to. He was supposed to be a very extensive read- 
er. This opinion arose from the extent of his knowledge, 
the clearness and accuracy of his statements. He was, 
however, no literary gourmand. He read much but not 
many books. He always read with an object in view and 
with concentrated attention. The mere reading of many 
books neither makes a man learned or wise. It is the 
appropriation and assimilation of knowledge that con- 
tributes to mental growth. There must be an intellect- 
ual appetency in the soul, else it will derive no strength 
from the pabulum which it devours. An old friend of 
Mr. Webster, who roomed with him when he taught, at 
Fryeburg, has furnished me with Mr. Webster's own ac- 
count of his mental habits at that time : 

" So much as I read," said lie, " I made my own. When a 
half hour, or an hour, at most, had expired, I closed my book and 
thought it all over. If there was anything particularly interest- 
ing to me, either in sentiment or language, I endeavored to re- 
call it and lay it up in my memory ; and, commonly could effect 
my object. Then, if in debate or conversation, afterward, any 
subject came up on which I had read something, I could talk very 
easily so far as I had read and then I was very careful to stop." 

In later years, when his experience and observation 
had become more enlarged, he had no occasion to stop 
till the subject was completely exhausted. It is worthy 
of notice that he never devoted much time to the read- 
ing of works of fiction. While a student, he scarcely 
read novels, at all ; in after life, he merely looked into 
them, occasionally, to ascertain how the public mind was 
employed in reading them.* 

*In 1805, he gave the following account of himself to a classmate : " In 
Boston, my reading was mostly appropriate to my profession. GifFord's 



20 

He made a thorough investigation of every subject 
upon which he was to speak. He prepared his cases for 
Court with great care. This he regarded as a duty 
which he owed to his client and to justice. His address- 
es for public occasions were the fruit of long and patient 
reflection. His best passages were often composed while 
following the windings of a brook for trout, or wander- 
ing through quiet forests in quest of game. He delayed 
writing out his thoughts till near the time of their deliv- 
ery, that he might gain momentum from the tide of pass- 
ing events. Such was his practice in College. He ma- 
tured his thoughts, in his solitary rambles, and put them 
on paper but a short time before they were due. One 
of his classmates says : 

" He was in the habit of writing bis own declamations, eve?: 
when not required to do so, by the laws of the College. When 
he hadlto speak, at two o'clocl^ke would frequently begin to write 
after dinner : and, when the bell rung, he would fold his paper 
and put it into his pocket and go in and speak with great ease . 
At one time, when thus writing, his windows being open, a sudden 
flaw of wind took away his paper and it was last seen flying over 
the meeting house : but, ho went in and spoke its contents with 
remarkable fluency." 

The thoughts all lay combined in his memory. The 
writing of them was merely mechanical. It would not 
be safe, therefore, for ordinary students to attempt to 
imitate him, unless they first learn to " read, mark, and 
inwardly digest," as he did ; and, then subject them- 
selves to like habits of profound abstraction and long con- 
tinued reflection. He could use the words of Horace 
with a significancy which the Roman poet never dream- 
ed of: 

" neque enim quum lectulus aut me 

Porticus excepit, desum mihi." 

Juvenal has amused me for some evenings, Gibbon's Life and Posthumous 
Works, Moore's Travels in France and Italy, Paley's Katural Theology, 
etpauoaalia siinilia, have rescued me from the condemnation of doing 
nothing I am earnest in the study of the French Language, and can now 
translate about as much, for a task, as -we could read of Tully in our Fresh- 
man vear." 



21 

It will be recollected that the speech ascribed to John 
Adams, in Mr. Webster's eulogy on Adams and Jeffer- 
son, which Mr. Everett pronounces unsurpassed, by any 
thing of the kind in our language ; and, which has caus- 
ed much search to be made respecting its origin, and call- 
ed forth many letters of inquiry, where, in the works of 
Adams, it could be found, was composed by Mr. Web- 
ster, in his house, in Boston, on the day before the de- 
livery of it in Faneuil Hall. It is very probable that 
some of the finest passages in his speeches, which he was 
presumed to have prepared beforehand, were called forth 
by the excitement of the occasion ; by the inspiration of 
the time, place and circumstances. He seemed to make 
little preparation for his most elaborate orations. Some 
thought, therefore, that he could speak, on any subject, 
without mental effort. He thought while others trifled ; 
he labored while others slept ; he meditated while others 
disputed* His opinions were thus matured on matters 
of national concern, long before he had occasion to use 
them. He was oftener the la st than the first to engage 
in debate. He then came with the authority of a judge 
rather than the pleadings of an advocate. He often de- 
layed speaking on questions that agitated the public mind 
and divided the Senate, till the country became impa- 
tient. His friends complained of him ; his enemies chal- 
lenged him. When the tumult has reached its height, 
he " mounts the whirlwind and directs the storm." He 

* James H. Bingham, Esq., a classmate of Mr. Webster, writes to me un- 
der date of Nov. 25, 1852, respecting bis habits of study in College : '-He 
■was sure to understand the subject of his recitation ; sometimes 1 used to 
think, in a more extended and comprehensive sense, than his teacher. He 
never liked to be confined to small technicalities or views ; but seemed to 
possess an intuitive knowledge of whatever he Avas considering. He did 
not find it necessary, as was the case with most of us, to sit down to bard 
work, three or four hours, to make himself master of his lesson, but seemed 
to comprehend it, in a larger view ; and, would sometimes procure other 
books, on the same subject, for further examination, and employ hours, in 
close thought, either in his room, or in his walk, which would enlarge his 
views ; and, at the same time, might with some, give him tbe character of 
not being; a close student." 



99 

appears, with the dignity of a monarch to sustain the 
right and defeat the wrong. His words are borne, on the 
wings of the lightning, to every corner of the land. The 
nation reads. His friends exult ; his enemies revile. Both 
parties feel as though a great mountain had fallen upon 
their battle field, to separate by an insurmountable barrier, 
the contending hosts. His friends repose under its shad- 
ow, and bid defiance to all comers ; his enemies, like the 
tenants of a crushed ant-hill, are busy in removing, par- 
ticle by particle, those frowning cliffs that protect their 
fainting foes. Many such victories has he achieved. His 
only armor was invincible logic. He never entered the 
lists till his country needed a champion. He never sought 
controversy. On the contrary, all the tendencies of 
his nature were pacific. He was quiescent and contem- 
plative rather than aggressive and excitable. " No man 
was ever more respectful to others ; no man carried him- 
self with greater decorum, no man with superior dignity." 
He was never called to order in debate ; never rebuked 
by an offended court. From childhood to age, he was a 
man of peace, — national peace, — social peace, — domes- 
tic peace. 

The following extract is from an article, published by 
him, Nov. 25, 1799. 

" Cry havoc ! and let slip the do»s of war !" 
" For what was man created, but to cultivate the arts of peace 
and friendship, to beam charity and benevolence on all around 
him, to improve his own mind by study and reflection, to serve 
his God with all the powers of his soul, and, finally, when the 
days of his years are completed, to bid adieu to earthly objects 
with a smile, to close his eyes on the pillow of religious hope and 
•sink to repose in the bosom of his Maker ? Why then is the ob- 
ject of our existence unattained '? Why does man relentless draw 
the sword to spill the blood of man ? And why are the fairest 
countries on earth desolated and depopulated with the ravages of 
war ? Why are the annals of the world swelled with the details 
•of " murder, treason, sacrilege and crimes that strike the soul 
with horror but to name them V Oh corrupted nature ! Oh de- 
praved man ! Those who are delighted with tales of bloodshed 



23 

and destruction find a rich repast in the daily accounts from Eu- 
rope, where 

" Gigantic slaughter stalks with awful strides, 
And vengeful fury pours her copious tides." 
But to the child of humanity, to the man of true benevolence, it 
is a sad, a painful reflection, that iniquity should usurp the reign 
of justice, that the liberties and the lives of millions should be 
sacrificed to satiate the ambition of individuals ; and, that tyrants 
should wade through seas of blood to empire and dominion. 

War, under some circumstances, is proper, is just. When 
men take arms to burst those chains, which have bound them in 
slaveiy, to assert and maintain those privileges, which they just- 
ly claim as natural rights, their object is noble, and we wish them 
success. 

But on the contrary, when individuals, prompted by desire of 
revenge, or from motives of ambition and personal aggrandize- 
ment, lead forth their bloody hosts to slaughter and wantonly 
sport in the destruction of their species, our bosoms glow with in- 
dignation, and we, reluctantly, but resolutely, have recourse to 
those means for our own preservation, which tyrants would em- 
ploy for our destruction." 

On his dying bed, he closed his sublime discourse 
upon the gospel of Jesus Christ, with these words, 
' * Peace on earth, and good will toward men;" then 
clasping his hands together, he added with solemn em- 
phasis; " That is happiness — the essence of Christian- 
ity — good will toward men." 

From all the patriots and statesmen of the world, he 
selected Washington, for his model to study and imitate. 

Among his earliest productions there is a poetic apos- 
trophe to the Father of his Country. It was written in 
1801. 

" Ah Washington, thou once didst guide the helm, 

And point each danger to our infant realm. 

Didst show the gulf, -where faction's tempests sweep, 

And the big thunders frolic o'er the deep, 

Through the red wave didst lead our bark, nor stood, 

Like Moses on the other side the flood ! 

But thou art gone — yes, gone, and we deplore 

The man, the Washington, we knew before. 

But when thy spirit mounted to the sky, 

And scarce beneath thee left a tearless eye, 

Tell,— what Elisha then thy mantle caught 

Warmed with thy virtue— with thy wisdom fraught ?" 



24. 

The question that interested the youthful poet has been 
once solved ; and, we arc now prepared to repeat it with 
pensive earnestness, over the tomb of Webster. On Bun- 
ker Hill, in 1843, he said : " America has furnished to 
the world the character of Washington! And if our 
American Institutions had done nothing else, that alone 
would have entitled them to the respect of mankind." 
We may now add, with a melancholy pleasure, the re- 
spect of mankind is drawn to us by "a twofold cord which 
is not easily broken." Webster, like Washington, ex- 
hibited, in public life, a native dignity of manner, which 
forbade the approaches of intrusive meddlers, and arrest- 
ed, at once, all impertinent interference with his appro- 
priate duties. Those legislators, who, from time to time, 
have moved to investigate his official conduct, and have 
preferred charges of malversation, against him, have al- 
ways found those measures suicidal to themselves, and 
have ever after, been spoken of, as politically dead. 

Mr. Webster scorned to secure official station by arti- 
fice ; nor, would he tolerate political intrigue to gain par- 
ty success. You might as soon expect Mount Washing- 
ton to stoop for the convenience of those who climb. He 
has received no honor which he did not deserve. He 
has held no office which could add lustre to his reputa- 
tion. Unlike Washington, Mr. Webster, in private life, 
was eminently social. His conversation was always in- 
structive. No man ever listened to his familiar discourse, 
for an hour, who was not deeply impressed with his wis- 
dom. He exhibited the same charming affability in 
youth. Dr. Farrar says: "He, very early in life, at- 
tracted the attention of all present by his pleasant con- 
versation. He was agreeable, without ostentation." An 
old friend of his, who knew him intimately, while a teach- 
er at Fryeburg, says : "He had not then attained the 
full developement of manhood ; nor, had that intellect- 



25 

ual expression of countenance become so marked as in 
after years. His cheeks were thin ; the bones of his face 
prominent : so that he was far from exhibiting that beau- 
tiful and majestic appearance which a few more years 
brought upon him. But his gentleness, modesty and 
agreeable manners produced for him a more friendly feel- 
ing in those with whom he lived, as well as in those who 
were under his instruction, than his first appearance 
promised. There was nothing specially noticeable about 
him, at this time, except his full, steady, large and 
searching eyes. Nobody could see those eyes and ever 
forget their appearance or him who possessed them." 
An old pupil of his writes to me as follows : 
" He gained the universal respect both of scholars and villa- 
gers ; and the regret with which they parted from him is among 
my most vivid recollections of that day. The remarkable equa- 
nimity of temper he ever manifested in the school was a matter of 
common observation. He seemed, at times, somewhat abstract- 
ed in manner and devoted every interval of leisure, which occur- 
red in school, to reading. When called on for explanation of the 
subjects studied, he was full, accurate and clear." 

Another pupil of his, Rev. Dr. Osgood of Springfield, 

Mass., says : 

He was greatly beloved by all who knew him. His habits 
were strictly abstemious ; and, he neither took wine nor any strong 
drink. He was punctual in his attendance on public worship, 
and, even opened his school with prayer. I never heard him use 
a profane word. I never saw him disturbed in his temper. He 
was then, in straightened circumstances and paid his board by 
copying deeds for my father, who was then Register for the 
County." 

I have much other testimony of the like import, which 
it is unnecessary to add. 

Mr. Webster, undoubtedly, owed much to his superior 
endowments, but still more to his industry. His life was 
one of incessant toil. Writing to a friend, in 1846, he 
says : " I have worked for more than twelve hours a day, 
for fifty years, on an average." In 1851, he said, in a 
public speech : " I know not how the bread of idleness 

3 



zo 



tastes." His very amusements were all manly and in- 
vigorating ; and, even his solitary rambles in hunting 
and fishing, were often devoted to the composition of his 
orations. His address to the veterans of the Revolution, 
on Bunker Hill, was first pronounced on the borders of 
Marshpee brook. He was, habitually, an early riser. 
What little I have accomplished, " he once said, " has 
been done early in the morning." When a student, his 
love of books often caused him long vigils, at night, and in 
subsequent life, as it seems, public duties often encroach- 
ed upon the hours which were devoted to rest. When 
in office, he was usually the first at his post of duty and 
the last to leave it. An appointment was kept as sa- 
credly as an oath. However distant the day, he remem- 
bered it. No one was compelled to wait, on his account. 
If we may judge by his practice, he approved of short 
visits and long friendships. 

Mr. Webster was a man of large sympathies, of warm 
and earnest affections. His heart was the fit companion of 
his head. His friendship was lost only by unkindness or 
injustice. His love was not chilled by the frosts of age ; 
or, even the icy hand of death. When too feeble to rise 
to salute his friends, he still folded them to his bosom 
with a dying embrace. He has been called cold and un- 
sympathising. No assertion could be more false. No 
man ever lived who was more ready to make personal 
sacrifices for the comfort of others. Could his private 
life be spread out before the world, men would look with 
a deeper interest, upon the gentle play of his domestic 
affections than upon the gigantic achievements of his in- 
tellect. He loved, as he thought, with great intensity 
of emotion. The thousand little incidents, that show the 
native generosity of his soul, are the strong ties that bind 
him to the common mind. These unostentatious acts of 
benevolence, are like the countless filaments that bound 



27 

the man-mountain in the Liliputiantale, to the earth ; 
taken separately, they are like the spider's web, but unit- 
ed, they can not be broken. Men admire his genius ; 
they love his humanity. This shows us why the multi- 
tude are so eager to know how his great heart beat, when 
he breathed the same low atmosphere in which they live ; 
and, when they find that "their homely joys and destiny 
obscure" call forth the warm and gushing sympathies of 
his soul, they love him as a brother and honor him as a 
sage. Mr. Webster was known in his public character, 
to the whole civilized world. He could not, of course, 
make all mankind his particular friends. In his social 
intercourse, he seems to have followed the advice of old 
Polonius to his son : 

" Give thy thoughts no tongue, 
Nor any unproportioned thought his act. 
Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar, 
The friends thou hast and their adoption tried, 
Grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel, 
But do not dull thy palm with <mtertainment 
Of each new, unhatch'd, unfleJg'd comrade. 
Beware of entrance to a quarrel ; but being in 
Bear it, that the opposer may beware of thee. 
Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice : 
Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment." 

We have a strong proof of the genuine kindness of his 
nature, in the fact, that children, domestics and laborers 
who knew him, were always warmly attached to him. 
His eye had a peculiar fascination for children. They 
always came, at his bidding ; and, he instantly became 
their companion. His condescension to servants, his 
cordial greeting of old acquaintances, caused them to for- 
get their inferiority and to speak with the freedom of 
equals. In his early letters to his classmates, he ad- 
dresses them, in terms of the strongest endearment ; and 
he seems to covet their affection with the fondness of 
woman's love. This was no transient emotion. He lov- 
ed them, to the last ; and, in age addressed them with the 



28 

fervor of youthful feeling. Writing to an old classmate 

in 1849, he says : 

" My dear old Classmate, Roommate, and Friend, It gives me 
very true pleasure to hear from you and to learn that you are 
well. Years have not abated my affectionate regard. We have 
been boys together ; and men together ; and now we are growing 
old together, but you always occupy the same place in my re- 
membrance and good wishes." 

Time did not abate his friendship ; public and private 
cares did not stifle it. He was naturally genial, kind, 
and even playful, in social life. When engaged in pub- 
lic duties, he seemed abstracted, and inaccessible. His 
eye was, apparently, introverted ; as if his mind had, for 
a time, withdrawn to some private apartment of its pon- 
derous dome, to work out some problem for eternity. But 
when he met his guests, at his own fireside, then, " Cae- 
sar was himself again." Those who have enjoyed his 
society, under such circumstances, will mark those days 
with white in the calendar of their history. He did not, 
like Johnson, make his memory (accurate and tenacious 
as it was,) an engine of social oppression, but when con- 
versation flagged, he never failed to draw, from its stores, 
anecdote and fact, something both pleasant and profita- 
ble. In society, his only object was to make others happy. 

I have thus attempted to sketch some of the promi- 
nent traits of a great and good man. Some may now ask, 
had he no faults ? Those who know him, only by re- 
port, affirm that he had many ; but, I have been so ab- 
sorbed in admiration of his eminent virtues, that I have 
failed to notice them. I leave that investigation to those 
whose temper and heart incline them to the ungrateful 
service. Our modern philanthropists who presume to act 
the part of Rhadamanthus as well as of Hercules, never 
do things by halves. Whether they love or hate, they do 
it with all their might ; and, there are as many "good 
haters" of Daniel Webster, in New England, as there were 
of Socrates, in Athens, or of Cicero, in Rome. Anytus 



29 

and Melitus, Clodius and Catiline, were heathen, and, 
consequently far less culpable, for their murderous spirit, 
than the reckless defamers of the modern patriot, who 
cloak their malignant hate under the sacred name of phi- 
lanthropy. " It requires some talent," says an old writ- 
er, " and some generosity, to find out talent and gener- 
osity in others, though nothing but self-conceit and mal- 
ice are needed to discover or to imagine faults." I hold 
that men should be judged by their excellencies rather 
than by their defects. I have, therefore, endeavored to 
set before you, in this brief notice of Mr. Webster, as a 
student, a teacher and citizen, an example of industry, 
punctuality and fidelity, worthy of all imitation. It re- 
mains for me to speak of him as a man of letters. Were 
I gifted with his impressive elocution, I would repeat to 
you his own words, to show how profoundly he thought, 
how eloquently he spoke ; but, alas ! the best that I can 
do, is to light a feeble taper to supply the place of the 
departed sun. Johnson said, many years ago, if a stu- 
dent would acquire a finished English style, he must 
spend his days and nights with Addison. To American 
students, that rule has become obsolete. We have a 
better model. If you would drink from "the well of 
pure English undefiled," study Webster's works; 

" Nocturna versate manu, versate diurna." 

Mr. Thackeray, in his lectures on the Wits of the reign 
of Queen Anne, gives some good advice to young men. 

"Try," said he, " to frequent the company of your betters in 
books and in life, — that is the most wholesome society ; learn to 
admire rightly, that is the great pleasure of life. Note what the 
great men admire — they admire great things ; small minds ad- 
mire basely and worship meanly." 

I have heard Mr. Webster say, that he regarded it as 
a proof of superior intellect, to admire and appreciate 
Shakspeare. Intercourse with great minds tends to raise 
us to their level. Another star now beams on us from 
the galaxy of departed genius. I need not urge you, 



30 

young gentlemen, to admire its brilliancy or to walk by 
its light. Every student, before me, who ever made a 
school declamation, has, probably, learned it from Web- 
ster. Few scholars now live, in our country, whose minds 
have not received stimulus and nutriment from his im- 
mortal thoughts. It is fortunate, for the interests of 
learning, that we have such a model for imitation. His 
oratorical style may be pronounced faultless. " Clear- 
ness, force and earnestness are the qualities which pro- 
duce conviction." In these characteristics of true elo- 
quence, he has no superior in ancient or modern times. 
The effect of Webster's eloquence has, frequently, been 
greatest after years of agitation and discussion. He often 
stood on an eminence above his contemporaries, and with 
the "vision and faculty divine" of a prophetic eye, scan- 
ned the future and revealed its coming events. The peo- 
ple were, sometimes, not prepared to adopt his conclu- 
sions. He was obliged to educate the popular mind be- 
fore he could convince it. Accordingly, the first effect 
of some of his greatest efforts has been a storm of oppo- 
sition. It has been as if a rock-ribbed mountain had sud- 
denly risen, by internal convulsions, from the deep. The 
ocean boils and surges around it, the angry waves roll 
high and dash against its frowning cliffs, till the powers 
of nature seem wearied with the conflict, and the same 
waves bow and worship before it. There are other in- 
stances ; for example, his plea, in the Dartmouth College 
case, his Reply to Col. Hayne, and his Defence of the 
Treaty of Washington, where the utterance of his senti- 
ments, at once, silenced all opposition, and the whole 
country received his opinions as law. Considering the 
extent of that country, the superior intelligence of its cit- 
izens and the general unanimity with which his views 
were adopted, it is not extravagant in us to assert, that 
lie has no peer as an effective orator, in the world's his- 



31 

tory. It required a great crisis to call forth the highest 
powers of his eloquence. He was no popular orator or 
rhetorician, aiming at great effects on small occasions. 
It required a moral earthquake to disturb his equanimi- 
ty and kindle the fires that slept within him. Hence, 
some who have only heard him discuss the ordinary top- 
ics of the day, in a calm and dispassionate manner, have 
pronounced him dull and phlegmatic. The truth is, that 
he was always appropriate to the occasion ; never below 
it. His words, therefore,. when printed, are "like ap- 
ples of gold in pictures of silver," always more weighty 
and enduring than they seemed to be. In his orations 
that were written out before delivery, there is evidence 
of profound research and acute discrimination. His views 
of Greek and Roman colonization, in his Centennial Ora- 
tion, at Plymouth, would do honor to the acumen and 
learning of Niebuhr. To present a single paragraph to 
illustrate my position, would be like wrenching a dia- 
mond, for exhibition, from a coronet of brilliants. If 
you would treasure up the beauties of "Webster's Works, 
you must study and appropriate fhem entire. This is the 
only way in which you can become familiar with his "large 
round-about common sense." In his works he still lives 
and will live, so long as patriotism has an admirer or el- 
oquence a eulogist. ' ' All his writings and all his judg- 
ments, all his opinions and the whole influence of his 
character, public and private, leaned strongly and al- 
ways to the support of sound principles, to the restraint 
of illegal power, and to the discouragement and rebuke 
of licentious and disorganizing sentiments. " "Ad rem- 
publicam firmanclam, et ad stabiliendas vires et sanandum 
populum, omnis ejus pergcbat institutio." 

The subjects which employed his pen, as a student, 
are the same which engrossed his thoughts in later life. 
His College compositions, besides the ordinary themes of 



32 

the class, and stage declamations, were newspaper arti- 
cles in poetry and prose, a drama, which was publicly 
enacted in the meeting-house, in accordance with the 
custom of those times, on the evening preceding Com- 
mencement, at the close of his Junior year, an Oration, 
before the citizens of Hanover, delivered July 4, 1800 ; 
a Eulogy on a deceased classmate ; an Oration before the 
United Fraternity, at the Commencement when he was 
graduated, and several occasional Orations, before the 
same Society, delivered, at intervals, during his Junior 
and Senior years. Under date of Oct. 15, 1799, the 
following entry is found in the records of the Society : 
" Voted to reposit, in the archives of the United Frater- 
nity, an Oration, delivered by Junior Webster." 

Within a few years, the manuscript, here referred to, 
has disappeared. Some literary thief has purloined it. 

He deserves to be excluded from Helicon. 

" Intestabilis et sacer esto "* 

It is fortunate for mankind that so many of Mr. Web- 
ster's thoughts have been preserved. He has left abun- 
dant materials for the history of his whole life ; and, when 
his biography is fully written, it will furnish the richest 
entertainment to which the reading public was ever in- 
vited. It will interest the millions as well as the literati ; 

*It appears from the records of the Fraternity, that Mr. Webster, dur- 
ing his College course, was honored with all the offices in the gift of its mem- 
bers. In his Freshman year, he was chosen '■ Inspector of Books ;" in his 
Sophomore year, " Librarian ;" in his Junior year, •' Orator ," Vice Presi- 
dent," and " Dialogist ;" in his Senior year, " President," and " Commence- 
ment Orator." With reference to the ordinary exercises of the Society, 
both written and extemporaneous, compared with his associates, he could 
truly say : " I labored more abundantly than they all." He not only per- 
formed the duties assigned him but often volunteered to supply the place 
of delinquent members. One of his classmates remarks : " Whenever the 
Society had a difficult task to execute, it was laid upon Webster." If an 
argument was to be made ; or a poem to be delivered, Daniel Webster was 
ever the first choice of the students ; and he never disappointed the. confidence 
reposed in him. 

It deserves to be noticed, in this connection, that all the early manuscripts 
of Daniel and Fzekiel AVebster are remarkable for their plain, legible chi- 
rography, with scarcely a blot or erasure, and, for their accurate spelling 
and punctuation, matters of thorough scholarship, which, in recent times, 
are too often overlooked. 



33 

for his theatre was the world, and the party for which 
he labored, — mankind. His works constitute a rich leg- 
acy to coming generations ; "a possession for eternity," 
a patrimony, which can not be diminished, by minute 
division, nor destroyed by personal appropriation. — 
Mr. Webster was a scholar, possessing rich and va- 
ried stores of ancient and modern lore, besides being 
the most eminent Jurist and Statesman of his age. What 
he said of the elder Adams and Jefferson is equally true 
of himself: 

" His scholarship was so in keeping with his character, so 
blended and inwrought, that careless observers or bad judges, 
not seeing an ostentatious display of it, might infer that it did 
not exist ; forgetting, or not knowing, that classical learning in 
men who act in conspicuous public stations, perform duties which 
exercise the faculty of writing, or address popular, deliberative 
or judicial bodies, is often felt where it is little seen, and some- 
times felt more effectually because it is not seen at all." 

The arts of the sophist and demagogue he despised. 
He sought to convince, but did not refuse to please. He 
was high-minded and honorable in speech, as Avell as in 
purpose. He employed no philosophical, abstract or 
technical terms in his logic ; but used plain, vigorous, 
manly English. His discourse, like the bosom of the 
calm and clear lake, revealed all that was in its own 
depths, and reflected heaven besides. He preferred to 
commend, rather than censure. His praise was delightful; 
his rebuke was terrible. No man ever forgot his smile or 
his frown. The language of his face was felt, When his 
eye kindled with anger, his presence was truly awful. 
But his indignation was momentary. He never treasur- 
ed up the bitter memories of the past ; on the contrary, 
he sought to efface them from Iris own mind and to oblit- 
erate them from the published reports of his speeches. I 
need not recount to you the great events of his life. His 
conflicts and his victories at the bar, in the Senate, and 
in the field of diplomacy are all known to you ; and every 

5 



34. 

son of New England, feels that he has a personal inter- 
est in them. You remember how in 1830, the hosts of 
disunion were marshalled for the fight ; how the conspir- 
ators came into the Senate, and destined, not a Consul, 
but the Defender of the Constitution, to political death. 
You know how bold and defiant w r as the challenge ; how 
fierce and vindictive was the assault. You know, too, 
how the enemy was met ; how their forces were broken, 
discomfited, routed, driven from the field, and "chased 
like a dead leaf over the desert." You remember well 
how the satellite of the Austrian Emperor dared to dic- 
tate to this government principles of foreign policy. Y^ou 
know, also, how signally the insolent diplomatist was re- 
buked ; and how the answer of freedom's champion was 
received at the tyrant's court. As in the days of the 
Babylonian monarch, when the hand- writing appeared 
on the wall : " Then the King's countenance was chang- 
ed and his thoughts troubled him." 

To the young student, the history of his early life is 
invaluable. His example is as rich, in instruction, as 
his recorded opinions. There is probably not a student 
who hears me, to-day, whose condition, in life is so ad- 
verse to literary eminence, as was that of Daniel Web- 
ster. He was encompassed with obstacles that to ordinary 
minds would have been insurmountable. Not only the 
means but the necessary stimulus to successful scholar- 
ship were wanting. His father was embarassed with debt, 
and burdened with private and public cares. The whole 
country was impoverished. All its institutions were new y 
rude and imperfect. Public opinion was hostile to a lib- 
eral education. Many of the citizens of New Hampshire 
had just come out of the blood and fire of the Kevolution- 
ary War, where, shoulder to shoulder, they had fought 
for liberty and equality. They scorned all aristocratic 
rank, whether it belonged to birth or learning. They 



35 

declared, at once, that the education of the boy would be 
his ruin. His services were needed at home, and it was 
very unwise, in their opinion, to weaken the hands of 
those who were felling the forests and subduing an un- 
srenial soil. A book was a " rara avis in terris." Schools 
were few and short ; the instruction given was meagre 
and imperfect ; the government was harsh and tyranni- 
cal. Refined society was unknown, in the newly settled 
portions of the state. When Daniel "Webster, at the age 
of fourteen, entered Exeter Academy, his manners were 
unpolished ; his dress was decidedly unfashionable, being 
entirely of domestic manufacture ; his shoes were coarse 
and his language was redolent of rural life. His rustic 
appearance called forth the sneers of his associates who 
could read the language of dress better than that of books. 
He was precisely in the condition of the person (supposed 
to be Virgil,) alluded to by the Eoman satirist : 

"Iracundior est paullo : minus aptus acutis 

Naribus hornm hominum ; rideri possit eo, quod 

Rusticius tonso toga defluit, et male la.xus 

In pede caleeus haeret. At est bonus, ut inelior vir 

Nou alius quisquam : at tibi amicus : at ingenium ingens 

Inculto latet hoc sub corpore." 

This fact explains that standing enigma of his life ; 
that he could not make a declamation before the school 
while at Exeter. But this difficulty was, triumphantly, 
overcome and his talents and industry soon raised him 
above his condition, and out of sight of his persecutors. 
His example speaks words of hope and consolation to the 
indigent and depressed student ; for, though he may not 
equal him in successful study, he may follow in his foot- 
steps, " hand pari passu." His example rebukes the 
idle and disorderly student. I have examined with great 
care, Mr. Webster's early life. I have read his letters, 
his compositions and orations, have consulted his surviv- 
ing classmates, have visited the place of his nativity and 



36 

conversed with his playmates ; and, I have not found a 
single act, in all his student life, derogatory to the char- 
acter of a gentleman, — a high minded, christian gentle- 
man, which is the highest style of man.* He showed, 
then, the same chastened and honorable ambition to be 
wise and good, the same intense scom of meanness, in- 
trigue, affectation, and low cunning, th^same respect for 
age and official station, the same reverence for law and 
religion, which marked his whole subsequent course. 
His example cheers and animates the industrious and 
faithful student ; for, by the homely virtues of diligence, 
punctuality, perseverance and devotion to duty, he 
achieved his intellectual and moral pre-eminence, and 
made himself, "the foremost man of all this world." My 
young friends, if you cannot equal him, in scholarship 
and achievements, you may imitate him ; and, perhaps, 
be next to him,"longo intervallo," and enjoy the "prox- 
imos honores" of successful effort, though, as the poet 
said of Jove : 

" Nee viget quidquam simile aut secundum." 

*It has been commonly reported, that great injustice was done to Mr- 
Webster in the assignment of College honors. The facts are these : at the 
time of his graduation, the Latin Salutatory was regarded, by the Faculty, 
as the first appointment. In the words of one of his classmates, who was 
afterwards a College officer, " the Faculty thought it would be almost bar- 
barous to set the best English scholar, in the class, to jabber in Latin," so 
they assigned him the second part," to wit: " an Oration on the Fine Arts, 
or a Poem." With this appointment Mr. Webster and his class were not well 
pleased. The bitter rivalry between the two literary Societies, in the Col- 
lege, gave rise to this dissatisfaction. The causes which led to this state of 
feeling, I can not stay to examine. It has been said that Mr. Webster, in 
consequence of his dislike of his appointment, tore up his diploma. So far 
as I can learn, there is not a shadow of evidence for this assertion. The 
oldest inhabitants of the village, the officers of the College, and the class- 
mates of Mr. Webster, are all ignorant of the alleged fact. They never 
heard of the report, till years after the tragedy was said to have been enact- 
ed. I cannot, for a moment, suppose that a young gentleman of Mr. Web- 
ster's well-known gravity and dignity of character would allow himself, 
even under strong excitement, to commit such an unscholarly act ; and, his 
modest estimate of his own abilities, as abundantly appears, from his own 
letters, at that period, forbids the supposition, that he did it in a spirit of 
vain boasting. 



, 



His whole history will bear the test of near approach 
and strict examination. When he is better known, he 
will be more loved and honored. His life was august, 
his death sublime. He lived like a christian patriot ; he 
died like a christian philosopher.* There was a moral 
grandeur, in his words and actions, almost unparalleled. 
His conversation, in the near view of death, was as far 
above that of Socrates, as the sublime truths of Christi- 
anity are above the dim and erratic conjectures of hea- 

*A few months before his decease, while sitting with him, alone, by his 
own fire-side, I heard him discourse most eloquently upon the great truths 
of Christianity and the proper method of teaching them. 

" Last Sabbath," said he, " I listened to an able and learned discourse 
upon the evidences of Christianity. The arguments were drawn from 
prophecy, history, and internal evidence. They were stated with logical 
accuracy and force ; but, as it seemed to me, the clergyman failed to draw 
from them the right conclusion. He came so near the truth that I was as- 
tonished that he missed it. In summing up his arguments, he said the only 
alternative presented by these evidences is this : Either Christianity is true, 
or it is a delusion produced by an excited imagination. Such is not the al- 
ternative, said the critic ; but it is this: The Gospel is either true history, 
or it is a consummate, fraud; it is either a reality, or an imposition. Christ 
was what He professed to be, or He was an impostor. There is no other 
alternative. His spotless life, His earnest enforcement of the truth, His 
suffering in its defence, forbid us to suppose that He was following an illu- 
sion of a heated brain. 

" Every act of His pure and holy life shows that He was the author of 
truth, the advocate of truth, the earnest defender of truth, and the uncom- 
plaining sufferer for truth. Now, considering the purity of His doctrines, 
the simplicity of His life, and the sublimity of His death, is it possible that 
He would have died for an illusion ? In all His preaching, the Saviour 
made no popular appeals. His discourses were all directed to the individ- 
ual. Christ and His apostles sought to impress upon every man the con- 
viction that he must stand or fall alone — he must live for himself and die 
for himself, and give up his account to the omniscient God as though he 
were the only dependent creature in the universe. The Gospel leaves the 
individual sinner alone with himself and his God. To his own Master he 
stands or falls. He has nothing to hope from the aid and sympathy of as- 
sociates. The deluded advocates of new doctrines do not so preach. Christ 
and His Apostles, had they been deceivers, would not have so preached. 

"If clergymen in our day, would return to the simplicity of the 
Gospel, and preach more to individuals and less to the crowd, there 
would not be so much complaint of the decline of true religion. Many of 
the ministers of the present day take their text from St. Paul, and preach 
from the newspapers. When they do so, I prefer to enjoy my own thoughts, 
rather than to listen. I want my pastor to come to me in the spirit of the 
Gospel, saying, " You are mortal ; your probation is brief; jour work must 
be done speedily. You are immortal, too. You are hastening to the bar 
of God ! the Judge standeth before the door." When I am thus admonish- 
ed, I have no disposition to muse or to sleep. These topics have often oc- 
cupied my thoughts ; and if I had time, I would write upon them myself." 



38 

then philosophy. Socrates, as he was leaving this life, 
remembered his vow to the god, iEsculapius. Webster 
prayed, " Almighty God, receive me to thyself, for Je- 
sus Christ's sake ;" and dictated as the caption of his 
epitaph, this scripture : " Lord, I believe, help thou my 
unbelief." Such was his dying testimony. His earli- 
est and his latest opinions are in confirmation of his faith 
in God's revealed truth. While he lived, his voice was 
often heard in defence of religion ; now that he is no 
more, his example pleads her cause, with a more sub- 
lime, impressive and convincing eloquence. But we sor- 
row, most of all, because we shall see his face no more. 
He has gone to the land of silence. His voice is hushed 
and the light of his eye is quenched in death. Yet how 
little is there of the great and the good that can die ! — 
Webster still lives in the history of his actions. He still 
lives in his recorded sentiments ; he lives in his illustrious 
example. He lives in the influence, which the principles 
he advocated will exert on coming ages. He lives in the 
gratitude and homage of all good men. 

"Vivit, enim, vivetque semper; atque etiam latius in 
memoria hominum et sermone versabitur postquam ab 
oculis recessit." 

In the words, which the pious Baxter used concern- 
ing that illustrious Commoner, John Pym, we may now 
say : Webster ' ' is now a member of a more knowing, 
well-ordered, right-aiming, self-denying, unanimous, 
honorable, triumphant senate than that from which he 
was taken." 

" Why weep ye then for him, who, having won 

The bound of man's appointed years, at last, 

Life's blessings all enjoyed — life's labors done, 

Serenely to his final rest has passed ; 

While the soft memory of his virtues yet 

Lingers, like twilight hues, when the bright sun is set." 



APPENDIX. 

Mr. Webster inspired, in his early friends, an attachment as strong, con- 
fiding and permanent as his own. A few paragraphs from their letters will 
confirm this assertion. 

A classmate, under date of Feb. 8, 1806, writes : 
"My dear Daniel," 

"I have hardly, since our last interview, known an 
hour of real pleasure, till that in which I perused and re-perused your com- 
munication of Jan. 19th. There is more pure satisfaction and rational en- 
tertainment to be derived from one sheet of paper written and communi- 
cated by a real, intelligent friend than from the whole round of common 
' social intercourse.' General and extensive knowledge of men and books 
contribute to render an intimate friend doubly valuable. This considera- 
tion heightens the degree of happiness and instruction anticipated from the 
promise in your last, " to treat me with a course of epistles." I expect 
much from that promise and only lament that I can make no return that 
will, in any tolerable degree, compensate your labor unless the heart be re- 
ceived in room of language. Instead of lessening " the pleasure and tran- 
quility of my winter evenings" by the fulfilment of this proposition, depend 
upon it, my good friend, there is no circumstance except the presence of 
Daniel Webster that can contribute more to pass time pleasantly than read- 
ing his letters." 

The same writer, in a letter, dated Aug. 16, 1804, says : 
No wonder, Daniel, considering our long and sincere attachment, that 
Boston, with all its attractions, cannot " supersede the use of friendship, an- 
cient and honorable." There is a vacancy in human happiness, which 
must be filled with something besides the common business of life or the 
amusements and avocations of the city ; something adapted to the gentler 
feelings of the soul. Here friendship claims a place : here she finds it." 

In another letter, the same writer speaks of his own location in business, 
and adds : 

" I sincerely regret that you did not determine to settle in the County of 
Cheshire. Could I but enjoy the society of my brother Webster, by giv- 
ing him half or two thirds of my scanty share of business, it would be a bless- 
ing I should esteem invaluable. Notwithstanding, I commend your compli- 
ance with the wishes of a fond father. As duty, necessity, and choice, you 
say, co-operated to induce your settlement, at Boscawen, I cannot, in con- 
science, reprove you. It always seemed to me, that we were made for neigh- 
bors; — that we were made for brothers, needs no demonstration." 
The close of another letter, by the same writer, is as follows : 
" The only way in which I can converse with you is by reading your old 
letters which I have mostly by heart." 

Another friend writing, under date of March, 1806, say? : 
" If, when you receive this, you have clients waiting, throw it under the 
table ; but if you are alone, read far enough to know that my heart beats 
respondent to your prosperity, and knows how to feel grateful for the friend- 
ship with which you have honored me." 

Another friend, writing under date of Nov. 1805, says : I have just time 
to inform you that I have had the pleasure of hearing from you by Bev. 
Samuel Wood. I heartily congratulate you, my worthy counsellor, on your 
establishment in business and am extremely rojoiced that your prospects 
are so flattering. I understand from the excellent and benevolent bearer of 
this, that you are becoming the greatest and most eminent lawyer in the 
County of Hillsboro' and that your success is unprecedented. Estoperpetua." 
Another College friend writes, in Aug. 1804: — " Dear Friend," Say — 
Will you think it presuming for an old friend to address to you a few lines? 



40 

Should such a thought occur — revert to old times, when you were accus- 
tomed to treat me with the friendly familiarity of a brother; — and, those 
were happy times — alas ! too happy to last long." 

Another friend, in May 1805, writes: — "I should be rejoiced to see you 
after so long an absence I hear, with peculiar pleasure, that you have 
finished your studies and are likely to succeed in Boscawcn. Nothing can 
give me more pleasure than to hear of the prosperity of those who call me 
friend and whom I esteem as such. I doubt not but that your talents will 
exalt you as high in this world's estimation as you can wish." 

Peter Thacb.Gr, Esq., writes from Boston, May 17, 1805, as follows: — 

" My dear Sir, Your brother informed me to-day of your place of resi- 
dence. Give me leave to add my good wishes to those of your other friends, 
who are interested in your success. You may reasonably calculate on a fa- 
vorable course of affairs, for I believe that the qualities of your mind will 
ensure your establishment. I hope that you will give me some account of 
your situation and prospects, and be assured of my readiness to render you 
any services in this quarter. 

My friends who are engaged in the support of the ' Anthology,' have in- 
structed me to thank the author of the criticism on Dr. Caustic's " Terrible 
Traetoration." It is highly pleasing to them, and has been favourably re- 
ceived by the public. We have thought that the author of that piece was 
well qualified to do justice to the Dr.'s last publication. I beg your accept- 
ance of the volume, and hope that you will authorize me to say to the gen- 
tlemen, that they may shortly expect to receive a review of the work. If 
you are compelled to confine yourself in a situation remote from the pur- 
suits of cities, still, I hope t^at you will allow your mind sometimes to pay 
us a visit. I remind you of all your promises in favor of ine ' Anthology' 
and I hope that you will find nothing in Coke or Bastell, which will im- 
pair the obligation. — I wish you would tell your brother, that it will give 
me pleasure, at any time, to have him pass an hour in my office. Some- 
times I shall use his friendship, he may always use mine." 

Sept. 1, 1806. — " I observe that our critics have noticed your " address," 
which I assure you I read with great pleasure. I am daily expecting to re- 
ceive from you your promised communications." 

Nov. 1, 1806.—-" Our Society were much gratified with your communi- 
cation. It appears in this Anthology. We regard your promise of future 
communications with great pleasure. You must contrive to make the wil- 
derness and desolate places of New Hampshire blossom with the roses of 
genius and learning." 

" April 24, 1807.—" Your review will appear in the No. which is now in 
press, with all its vernal honors. Do not let the cares of the world, nor the 
deceitfulness of riches choke the growth of literature in your mind. New 
Hampshire has yet to produce its portion of eminent men." 

Thomas W. Thompson, Esq., with whom Mr. Webster studied law, for a 
time, writing from Salisbury, under date of Oct. 1 7, 1 804, to Mr. Webster 
in Boston, says : — u I am much pleased with the communication signed 
" Mass. & W." ; and I can assure you they have excited a very interesting 
inquiry for the authors. The former I recognized. The latter I had not 
seen till after the receipt of your letter. Go on : catch every leisure mo- 
ment. If pecuniary compensation should not follow, you will have a satis- 
faction of a higher nature. * * * * I shall wish you to write me of- 
+ en, and you must pai-don me, if I insist upon paying the postage upon my 
own and your letters. At some distant period, I shall not object to your 
paying your proportion. * * * Should you have occasion to borrow 
money, please to let me know it, and, if 1 have it on hand, I will accommo- 
date you with it as long as you please." 



